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Leland’s sympathetic gaze drifted to Ryan’s knee as he put his cup down. “Maybe you’d like to, but—”
Ryan struggled to curb his irritation. “After surgeries and rehab, they’re even able to return some amputees to the front lines. I’ll go back, even if I have to be an instructor.”
“Of course, of course.” Leland lifted his hands in a placating gesture. “Forgive me.”
Ryan winced. Leland had always kept the best interests of the Gallaghers at heart, and he certainly didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of Ryan’s unpredictable bitterness. “No…the apology should be mine.”
Clasping his hands loosely in his lap, Leland leaned back and gave Ryan a fatherly smile. “That time when you got your first Purple Heart, a few years ago? There was mention of it at a high school graduation assembly. After that, at least five elementary classrooms started sending letters and gift boxes to servicemen in Iraq.” He shook his head in wonderment. “Townsfolk filled those collection boxes to overflowing.”
Surprised and a little embarrassed, Ryan looked away. “At least some good came out of it. I didn’t realize anyone even knew.”
Leland laughed. “Then you probably don’t remember the Niebauers, who run the Herald. Millicent isn’t bigger than a minute, but she’s got a nose for news and the tenacity of a bulldog. Though, come to think of it, she didn’t get wind of your injuries a few months ago. Just the Purple Heart.”
“So how bad are things out at the ranch—really?”
“Really?” He shook his head slowly. “Up until a few years ago, your father watched over both his political career and the ranch with a sharp eye. Nothing got past that man—nothing. Then his vision started failing, but of course being Clint, he never let on. We know Nate got away with at least sixty grand, but the books are such a mess that it could be double that, easily.”
“Pretty much what Trevor said…and what I found in the forensic accountant’s report.”
“Clint may be snarling about your arrival, but I’m sure he’s angrier at himself than he is at anyone else. Once he simmers down, he’ll be grateful.”
“So I’m just supposed to reorganize the bookkeeping system?” Ryan sighed. “That’s something a good office manager would do.”
“Not with Clint bird-dogging every last step of the way…and it’s not just the bookkeeping, either. You could revamp the hunting lease program, and maybe work on marketing angles that will get it moving. I’m not sure but that the quarter horse and beef cattle programs won’t need some work, as well.” Leland grabbed a legal pad on his desk, ran a forefinger down a list of notes, then set the pad back down. “Whatever you can do while you’re here will help the new manager who follows you. I’ll assist in any way I can.”
“And the missing money?”
“Honestly, it’s a lost cause.” Leland splayed his fingers on his thighs. “But if you come across anything—any clues whatsoever—let me know immediately. I’ll get the private investigator on it right away.” Leland studied Ryan over the rim of his glasses again. “The corporation needs that money back, but this situation can’t get out to the press or the sheriff’s office—either way, news will spread. Clint’s political rivals would have a heyday crowing about him ‘allowing’ his own business to end up in such disarray. This next election will likely be his last, and there are still issues that mean a great deal to him.”
“Right.” Ryan shifted in his chair, wishing he’d taken a couple Tylenol before leaving the ranch. “After all this time, the horses are out of the barn, anyway.”
“The loss came at a bad time. Remember the K-Bar-C?”
“The Braxton place. Shares part of our eastern property line.”
“Place went up for auction twelve years ago. A group of locals formed a consortium, bought it and also picked up some smaller properties to create KC Enterprises. Every one of those investors had dreams of making big money. Some of them poured their life savings into the deal, some mortgaged their own property to scrape enough money together.”
The K-Bar-C… “Trevor filled me in on some of this already, and I do know Dad and Braxton weren’t the best of friends,” Ryan mused. “Clyde’s place was upstream on the aquifer that supplies the Four Aces, and I vaguely remember Dad ranting about water rights.”
“Which is why he wanted to buy out Braxton for years. We put together one offer after another, but Braxton hung on to it until he died in his late 80s—out of sheer spite, Clint figured. The heirs scrabbled over the estate and ultimately ran it into bankruptcy. It came up for auction when I was out East for a couple months and your dad was in the middle of some big tussle in the State Senate. It sold to a group of locals.”
“I can imagine how happy he was when he heard the news too late.”
“You have no idea,” Leland retorted. “Then just a year ago, the consortium folded. Crazy idea anyway, if you ask me. Drought hit. Mad Cow drove cattle prices down. The partners were up to their ears in debt and way behind on taxes.”
“So Dad—”
“This time he knew about it. But he was cash poor, especially after so much money was embezzled. He couldn’t pull a down payment together quick enough, and the town council foreclosed on the property. They’re using it for that homesteader program, bringing in more families to grow the town. Your father is still furious, and he’s had nearly a year to adjust.”
“Homesteads?”
“At very low-cost loans that mostly just cover the back taxes, with no down payment. If all goes according to plan, there’ll be hundreds of families sitting on top of that aquifer, drawing water away.” Leland pursed his lips. “The sheriff is on the Home Free committee, along with Frances Haase, the town librarian, Father Holden’s wife, mayor Miranda Wright and Enfield.”
“Enfield. I can imagine what Dad thinks about that.”
Leland pushed himself to his feet and started to pace. “Local politics are small potatoes to your father, of course, but those two have been rivals since they were kids. He probably thinks the entire land giveaway deal was Arlen’s scheme to irritate him. It wasn’t, though. Miranda came up with the idea and sold everyone else on it.”
“I was out riding yesterday and ran across a boy in our east pasture. I figured his family was just renting the old Cedar Grove place.”
“Nope. You just met your neighbors. Permanent neighbors, that is. There’ll be a lot more coming. And a lot of the property adjoins the Four Aces.”
“The boy was Kris Cantrell’s son.”
Leland’s jaw dropped. “She’s back? Does your father know?”
“That Nate’s daughter is in town? Yes. That she’s a neighbor? I have no idea. I suppose there’s been some sort of notice in the local papers about the homestead awards, but he spends a lot of time in Austin.”
Leland whistled. “Damn.”
“Well, I don’t think she was any happier about seeing me that I was to see her.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw as Leland drummed his fingers on his thigh. “I know you two were close once. She was a pretty little thing, but Clint said she was bad news.”
How much had Dad told him, all those years ago?
“I’m old enough to take care of myself, this time around,” Ryan shot back.
Once burned, twice shy, his mother had said more than once over the years, and she was right.
He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.
CHAPTER FIVE
“MOM, LOOK! HORSES!” Cody struggled to lean forward despite the shoulder strap of his seat belt.
“I…see.” Shielding her eyes from the noon sun, Kristin parked in front of their house, stepped out of her red Tacoma pickup and stared at a grizzled old Mexican—one who was all-too familiar—unloading a pale buckskin from a battered old horse trailer.
On the other side of the trailer, she could see just the hindquarters of a sorrel standing slant-hipped, its tail flicking lazily.
And sure enough, a wizened figure in dusty boots and an old gray Stetson soon rounded the back of the trailer. “Howdy,” she barked as she slammed the trailer gate shut with a resounding clang. “I was fixin’ to leave you a note if you didn’t show up in time.”
“Show up?” Kristin said faintly. “In time?”
Cody took off running and skidded to a stop just a few yards from the horses. “Wow! Are these for us? You really did get me a horse?”
Kristin hurried to catch up, grabbing his shoulder before he got any closer. “Aunt Nora—”
With a dismissive wave, Nora retrieved the horse tied to the other side of the trailer, motioned to Luis, her ranch hand, and, with Kristin and Cody tagging along behind, put the horses into the corral by the barn.
Cody was clearly thrilled. Kristin felt…stunned.
“Cool! Can we ride now? Which one is mine?” Cody launched himself up onto the split rail fence and hooked his elbows over the top. “Can I have the tan one?”
“Buckskin, son. Boots is a buckskin. I figure you’d best ride Rebel, the sorrel. He’s been around the world with kids on his back. No surprises with that’n.” Nora tipped her hat back with a forefinger and studied him. Her sun-cured skin baked to a leathery brown after a lifetime outside in the blazing heat of Texas, she was sixty-three but had looked much older than that for the past twenty years. “Did your momma teach you how to ride, yet?”
His eyes veered away from the horses and met Kristin’s for just an instant. “Sorta.”
Kristin, her head reeling, gathered her thoughts. “I think there’s been a mistake. We’re not really ready for this, and I’m not sure I can afford—”
“Pshaw!” Nora snorted. “What would your daddy say, you coming back here, clean out in the middle of God’s country with your boy, and not putting some horses in your barn? You were on Teacup before you could walk.”
Remembering her first ancient, arthritic pony, Kristin couldn’t help but smile. “True. But right now, money’s tight, and I haven’t checked the fencing, and I just don’t think—”
“Mo-om!” Cody cried, looking between her and Nora. “She’s gonna let us have ’em. Pleeeaasse?”
Nora leveled a long look at Kristin, then slowly shook her head in disgust. “Bless her heart, RaeJean didn’t tell you. I swear she doesn’t have the sense God gave a cactus. I figured she’d see you around town, and she was supposed to tell you I was coming over one of these first days.”
RaeJean was a little absentminded, but at the thought of causing additional friction between her late father’s sisters—who tended to bicker anyway—Kristin scrambled for the right thing to say. “I went to see her yesterday, but she was busy, then we left and I just forgot to call her later. My fault, really. Totally mine.”
Nora harrumphed and exchanged glances with Luis. “I suppose…we could take these two horses home.”
“Mom, please!” Cody jumped off the fence and ran to grab Kristin’s hand. “I’ll do the chores. I’ll do everything, honest. They won’t cost much—there’s nice pasture, and we already have the barn.”
Kristin held back a sigh. “What’s the story on these geldings?”
Luis chuckled. “Your aunt, she did a favor for these fine boys. They belong to this place, but couldn’t stay without someone here.”
“They belong here?” Mystified, Kristin studied the horses through the rails of the fence. If not registered quarter horses they were certainly the type, with broad, muscular hindquarters and powerful chests.
“Foaled on this very property, ten years ago,” Nora said briskly. “This piece once belonged to an old cowboy who’d saved up enough to retire on a little place of his own.” The note of affection in her voice suggested that they might have been friends…or more. “Jim broke these boys out nice and gentle, rode most every day. Two years ago his heart gave out. Had no relatives, so the sheriff asked if I’d take the horses and his dog. The land was bought out by the K-Bar-C investors.”
“There’s a dog?” Cody scanned the yard. “Did you bring him, too?”
“Ole Scout is probably asleep under the tractor back home. I don’t know that he’s up to any more changes.” Nora pursed her lips, considering. “But if you’re looking for a dog, too—”
“Yes!”
“No,” Kristin said quickly. “Not right now, anyway. And about the horses—I just don’t have the money right now to buy them, much less for the shoer and vet and feed.”
Crossing her arms, Nora looked exasperated. “Missy, you’re getting them for free. You got twenty acres here, with some good grassy bottom ground. They’re both easy keepers, and they’ve been barefoot from day one. You know as well as I do that you can do your own paste worming and vaccinations.”
“I don’t have any friends here. Just think how cool it would be for you and me to go riding, Mom,” Cody pleaded. “Please? I’ll…I’ll do dishes forever. I’ll…I’ll do anything you say.”
A smile played at the corners of Luis’s mouth. “Sounds like your young caballero is in great need of a good horse,” he mused. “Maybe you could just give this a try. If it don’t work out, we come get the horses. Eh, Nora?”
Nora nodded decisively. “Done.”
“I got my fence pliers in the truck,” Luis added, giving Cody a wink. “You and me can ride the property line right now, make sure the fence is tight.”
“Yes!” Cody pumped his fist and tackled Kristin around the waist. “Thanks, Mom!”
Dazed, she returned his hug, then spread her hands palms up as she met Nora’s amused gaze. “But the tack—I don’t have anything.”
Nora hiked a thumb toward the back of the pickup. “Figured as much. We tossed in a coupla old roping saddles, bridles and some other equipment. It all came from Jim’s barn anyway, so it’s only right it comes back here. I’ve got no need for it.”
Within minutes, the horses were saddled and Cody, trembling with excitement, was aboard Rebel. Tipping his hat, Luis started into the pasture with Cody close behind.
Kristin watched them disappear over the hill, then turned to Nora and gave her a hug. “Thank you. It was really sweet of you to do this.”
Flustered, Nora took an awkward step back. “Needed to do this for my friend Jim,” she said, her voice rough. “Nothing more than that.”
The unexpected hint at a softer side touched Kristin. Nora had always been the loner of the two aunts—a proud, independent woman who’d managed a ranch on her own since her early twenties. Kristin chose her words carefully. “Of course. I know he’d be thankful for everything you’ve done. I promise I’ll take good care of this place, and his horses, too.”
Nora turned away and busied herself with gathering the halters, lead ropes and hoof picks that Luis and Cody had left on the fenders of the trailer. “You be careful, hear? Young woman and a child out here, all alone…”
“I’m not some city slicker afraid of the dark, Aunt Nora. Remember, I spent part of my childhood here. I won’t miss the streetlights and traffic.”
“It’s not just that.” Nora inclined her head toward the barn, so Kristin fell in step with her as she headed that way.
Once the tack was stowed, Nora leaned against a stall door with one booted foot cocked back to rest on the rough timber. “I don’t know how much you know about your dad.” She laughed dryly. “Kids usually aren’t aware of everything that’s going on, and I expect your momma didn’t feel too inclined to share a lot of good memories, eh?”
“True,” Kristin admitted. “Though she didn’t run him down in front of me. I know they fought a lot more after the foreclosure of our ranch. And after the divorce, I didn’t get to see him much.” She forced a smile. “I missed him.”
“My brother was a good man. A hard worker, and I believe he was as honest as they come. Things never did go right for him, though. Drought and cattle prices foreclosed his ranch. He scraped and saved, and rallied a lot of friends to join him in a partnership to buy thousands of acres of good Texas Hill Country, back before the prices hiked up so high. People…” Nora paused. “Well, when the consortium went under, there were a lot of people around here who were hurt bad. Some lost their life savings, some lost the family ranches they’d mortgaged to join in. A lot of them blamed your dad, saying he’d talked them into a foolish scheme.”
“But it wasn’t his fault, right?”
“No. It wasn’t the fault of the man who oversaw the day-to-day operation of the place, either. Zeb Ritter worked hard as any man could, and your dad was out there, too, working twelve-to eighteen-hour days for him. The economy and the drought were at fault, but it’s easier to take failure when you can pin it on someone.”
Maybe that’s why her dad hadn’t had much time for a young daughter who’d lived so far away. “That’s not fair.”
“Yeah, well, Zeb committed suicide almost eighteen months ago, and your dad died the month before. Neither one is left to blame, now.” Nora’s lips thinned. “I wanted you to understand, because there are still some locals with hard feelings.”
“I’ve already run into a few of them.”
“There’s something else.” Nora paced to the side door of the barn and stared out over the dry, rolling landscape with her thumbs hooked in the back pockets of her worn Levi’s. “Everyone in these parts knows how that sorry bastard Gallagher wanted the K-Bar-C land. Power and control is everything to him, and it sticks in his craw that the Home Free committee nabbed it.”
Kristin joined her at the doorway. “But what can he do about it?”
“Nothing legal,” Nora scoffed. “I just want you to understand what’s going on around here, and I want you to be careful.”
“I hardly think the man can kick me off my land.”
Nora rested a calloused hand on Kristin’s arm. “Your dad worked for Clint up until a few weeks before he died. They must’ve had a big argument, because Nate either quit or was fired. I’ll go to my grave thinking there was something fishy about my brother’s death so soon after that.”
Startled, Kristin drew in a sharp breath. “But it was ruled an accident.”
“I have no proof. But your dad drove that road most every day of his life. He knew every curve, every bump. The weather was dry. The sun had just set, so the light was still good. The sheriff doesn’t agree with me, but I believe someone forced your dad’s truck off the road. And I think I know who it was.”
